


Divine Concerns

by AceTrainerAlicia



Series: The Adventures of Jaina: A Faith Renewed [8]
Category: Runescape
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Dark Comedy, Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceTrainerAlicia/pseuds/AceTrainerAlicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got more than he bargained for when he followed his sister into the Black Knights' Fortress, and he certainly didn't expect Saradomin himself would question him--especially not about his sister! Takes place post-Death of Chivalry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divine Concerns

He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, nor had he known what was going on when he’d decided to follow her here in the first place. All he knew was that sneaking into the Black Knights’ Fortress meant some kind of adventure, and the sister he knew would never miss a chance for adventure.

Seeing Jaina at all had been quite a stroke of luck, but before he’d been able to catch up with her, she was already heading for the fortress with that knight—whose name, Henry remembered, was Sir Owen, and that he was a friend of hers from the Legends’ Guild. She’d looked uncomfortable in that red armored dress thing, and had really not wanted to put on the matching helmet—well, she was the same as always in that regard.

It had taken the young man a little while to successfully sneak up on a Black Knight and steal his armor, and then he’d gotten lost in the fortress trying to catch up to the pair. Well, he’d caught up to them now, and they were in some tomb covered in Saradominist markings everywhere, Sir Owen was dead, and Jaina was fighting the witch who’d killed him. Part of Henry wanted to rush to his sister’s aid, but the rest of him felt numb from seeing Sir Owen die.

Staring at the knight’s cold body, Henry remembered the last times he’d shared any kind of adventure with Jaina. The Fremennik were the best kind of company he could’ve asked for—they were brave warriors, and they had lots of beer and food! That alone had made the trials worth it. And then Jaina had told him about Miscellania and how she had gotten engaged to a prince, and introduced him to Princess Astrid, and he’d somehow found himself engaged to a beautiful archer princess despite how awkward and tongue-tied he’d been around her… and then came the battle where they’d faced the Dagannoth Mother together, Jaina with her magic and Henry with the biggest axe he’d ever carried.

At least Sir Owen had been killed by magic, and his body and weapons were clean and intact; not like Astrid’s crumpled, bloody form had been, her broken bow half-clutched in her hand. Henry had been very thankful for his helmet as he’d wept over her; looking back, he hadn’t quite been ready for marriage, but that hadn’t made losing her any less painful. Jaina had clearly taken the loss of Brand even harder—she had cried even more, and she hadn’t even wanted to talk after the funeral, either. And then she’d seemed to drift further and further away from him, to the point that he didn’t even hear from her for months—just like how they’d drifted apart after losing Mother and Father. She’d even drifted away from Guthix too, deciding to follow some new god Henry had never even heard of.

She’d at least trusted enough to tell him about that, and had explained that that was part of the reason she was refusing to join the battle in Lumbridge. All she would say, though, was that the god was called Zaros and that he was the patron of her weird ice magic, and that Henry should go speak to Soran in Varrock to learn more. “It’s not exactly safe to go around saying you’re Zarosian, even now,” she’d said. “You’re not to tell anyone I told you this, either!”

Henry wasn’t sure how to feel about that, and he’d been too busy on the battlefield and helping the neighbors in Lumbridge when he could to find this Soran she’d spoken of. He didn’t think he could bring himself to convert anyway. Even with Guthix gone, it felt wrong to turn away from him, to not stick by his ways. The druids had chosen to live as they always had and keep the memory of Guthix alive, striving for balance in all things and harmony with the world; surely Guthix, and Mother and Father, would’ve wanted him to do the same.

Of course, Mother and Father might not have approved of him enlisting in Zamorak’s army, even though it was helping to bring balance to the battle. Well, that hadn’t been his main reason for joining, even though he’d never have been recognized for his fine warrior skills in Saradomin’s army the way he was in Zamorak’s because everybody from everywhere was joining Saradomin. The actual main reasons—which Jaina hadn’t been impressed with, and Mother and Father probably wouldn’t be either—were that the Zamorakian warriors had really good beer and food, and that their general was a beautiful, graceful warrior-mage lady, while the Saradominist general was some fat bearded winged guy.

A sudden pained shriek snapped Henry out of his thoughts, and then he heard the witch’s voice get cut off in mid-sentence. He didn’t have time to think about the witch’s death at all, because Saradomin himself chose that moment to suddenly appear, right beside Sir Owen’s corpse.

“Well done; you have the wand.” The bearded god’s voice was old and grandfatherly, and since he was looking into the next chamber and beckoning, Henry suspected he must be addressing Jaina. He didn’t even seem to notice the blond-haired youth. “If we hurry, we can restore Sir Owen to life!”

As Henry was wondering what would happen to Saradomin’s army at Lumbridge if he wasn’t there blasting a power beam at Zamorak, Jaina hurried in and over to Sir Owen, quickly kneeling over him. She waved something over him a couple times and frowned in confusion. “Why didn’t it work? I proved I was worthy…”

“When you killed him, he was already dead,” Saradomin told her. “Only the power of a god can restore Sir Owen to life a second time. His spirit is fading; we have little time.”

Now Henry was even more confused. How did Sir Owen get killed if he was already dead? How was anyone even going to bring him back from the dead? Could gods do that? Couldn’t Saradomin just wave his hands over him to revive him?

“I don’t think I can trust you with the wand’s power,” Jaina was saying, shaking her head nervously. She was clutching something close to her chest, her hand shaking a little.

“You are… wise to be cautious of me,” Saradomin remarked. “I have done many questionable things, and it is possible that the wand will not judge me worthy. Yet I must take the risk, for Sir Owen’s sake.”

Jaina stared up at him with wide eyes, and Henry was watching her uneasily, still confused, but greatly worried for whatever would happen next. Why did she seem so frightened of him? He knew the Saradominist army was searching for her in hopes of getting her to join them, just as the Zamorakian army was—but he didn’t think Jaina would be afraid that Saradomin was angry about that, not now at least… and what was the wand she had, and why did Saradomin want it?

After a long awkward silence, Jaina slowly stood up, shaking her head. “No… I cannot let you have it.”

Saradomin’s eyes narrowed sharply, flashing blue. “You dare defy a god, World Guardian?” He no longer sounded grandfatherly, but positively furious.

Jaina didn’t answer, instead clutching the wand tighter to her chest as she slowly backed away. She was still shaking, but now she looked steadfast and firm.

“I shall not be denied!” Saradomin let out a furious roar and suddenly fired a bolt of blue lightning at Jaina, flinging her forcefully into the wall. She cried out in pain as she fell to the floor, and the wand went flying out of her hands.

“Jaina!” This time Henry couldn’t just stand by, and he rushed over to her side and frantically looked her over to see how badly she was hurt.

Slowly, weakly, she raised her head, blinking rapidly when she caught sight of him. “A-Ape Face? W-what are you… doing… here?”

“I followed you and Sir Owen here,” Henry said hastily, looking her over more closely when he didn’t see any blood or burns. “Are you alright? How bad is it? Is anything broken? Do you think you’re bleeding internally?”

Jaina shook her head. “Could’ve been a lot worse… I-I don’t feel anything that serious… the spell didn’t do much besides knock me back…”

She sat up and stretched a bit, and then slowly started to try to stand. Henry offered her an arm and carefully helped her to her feet, and stayed holding onto her in case she needed the support.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, frowning deeply. “That spell looked really powerful…”

Jaina was shaking her head again. “The witch’s spells were a lot more painful, actually. I’m kind of immune to god magic now, and you have Guthix to thank for that…”

She didn’t sound too happy about that, and Henry was puzzled as to why. Meeting Guthix himself would have been an amazing experience of a lifetime, and getting that kind of power from him as a gift was something he seriously envied!

“Kinshra!” The voice was… Sir Owen’s? “Where did you come from? How are you still alive? Have you been spying on us?”

Henry spoke up quickly, shaking his head. “N-no I’m not, and no I haven’t! My name’s Henry Kyle Katarn of Lumbridge, and I’m not even a knight or anything!”

Jaina was already moving protectively in front of him. “He’s my brother! He followed us here—Sir Owen? What happened…?”

She was staring wide eyed, and when Henry looked in that direction, he saw Sir Owen standing there by Saradomin’s side, somehow alive again. But he looked to be in terrible pain… and what was with his arm? It looked… zombie-like…

“Your brother is a knight of the Kinshra?” Sir Owen asked, frowning uncertainly.

Henry was shaking his head emphatically. “It’s a disguise! I had to wear this armor to get into the fortress to follow you two!”

“It is a disguise you no longer need, young man,” Saradomin said sternly, his voice once more calm and grandfatherly. He now held the wand that Jaina had had; he must have taken it after blasting her with lightning. “Please, feel free to discard the armor.”

Henry nodded fearfully and ducked behind a doorway. He wasn’t going to risk angering a god and getting fried with lightning, especially not while wearing armor that could conduct magic.

He didn’t hear all of what Saradomin was saying to Jaina, but he did catch something about him wanting her to use the wand to bring back the centaur race. The clanking and squeaking of the rusty old black armor as he carefully took it off made the rest of it impossible to make out.

Taking a moment to secure his sword and his backpack, he walked back over to Jaina, unarmored and wearing only a simple green shirt and matching trousers. Sir Owen was now respectfully addressing Saradomin. “I have stood by my principles, and followed the code you taught me,” he was saying. “Let me prove that I can overcome the darkness within me! I shall travel to the centaur burial ground, and use the wand to restore the centaur race!”

Saradomin nodded quietly. “Very well… but it was the World Guardian who passed the trial of blood. She must lead the expedition eventually—in the meantime, take time to gather supplies for all of you. We must cautiously prepare for the journey ahead.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Sir Owen bowed deeply, and then nodded to Jaina. “I shall contact you soon, my friend. It’s been an honor to fight at your side.”

“Now, World Guardian. You fought bravely, and saved Sir Owen from a fate worse than death.” The god of order’s voice was proud. “With your permission, I can teleport you to Edgeville Monastery.”

Jaina quietly shook her head. “I wish to leave on my own time.”

Henry’s eyes darted between them, and he slowly moved closer to his sister, ready to grab her in case Saradomin shot more lightning at her. However, the bearded god instead shook his head sadly. “As you wish. As for you, young man, please come with me to the monastery.”

Jaina’s eyes widened, and she moved protectively in front of Henry, staff in hand. “Please, my brother hasn’t done anything! I-I didn’t even know he followed me here…”

“I mean him no harm,” Saradomin said reassuringly. “You are right; he has done no wrong. But this is no place for a wayward young traveler.”

“It’s alright, Jaina,” Henry said quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go. I’ll be fine! It’ll save me some time, and I don’t have teleport runes like you anyway.”

Jaina still looked reluctant, but she did slowly nod. “Please stay safe… If you want to see me later, you know where my home is.”

“I’ll be alright, promise.” Henry nodded, and squeezed her hand softly before turning to Saradomin. “Let’s go.”

Saradomin waved his hand, and in a flash both he and the youth appeared in the monastery’s now-ruined cabbage field. A monk nearby was still weeping over the loss of the cabbages, and so didn’t take any notice of the fact that his god was standing right there.

The youth brushed himself off and turned to leave for the bank, but Saradomin spoke up again. “Henry, wait. There is something else we must discuss before you go.”

Henry stopped short and turned around, looking a little fazed. “If this is about the Battle of Lumbridge—”

“No, it’s not that.” Saradomin shook his head, although he did have both eyebrows raised at the sight of the token on the young man’s belt. “It’s a matter that concerns both you and me… it’s about your sister.”

Henry tensed up, looking worried. “Is this about the wand she didn’t want you to have?”

“No. That matter was strictly between her, me, and Sir Owen, and you don’t need to know more.” Saradomin motioned for him to come around the side of the monastery. “This is between you and I—we must be discreet.”

Henry did so, still puzzled. If this wasn’t about the wand or the Battle of Lumbridge, then what was it about? If he asked about the wand again, was Saradomin going to blast him with lightning for it?

Once god and human both were in the shadow of the monastery, Saradomin lowered his voice to a near whisper. “I’m sure you know much of your sister’s reputation as a famous adventurer, and her skill with magic.”

“I know,” said Henry. “She was always really good at magical stuff, but I never really understood it all that much… I can cast all the Bolt spells, but that’s about it.”

“It is not merely that she is stronger and more experienced than you are,” said Saradomin, stroking his beard. “Did you know that the power of Guthix shields her from all godly influence?”

“So that’s the gift he gave her?” Henry asked. “It sounds amazing, but she doesn’t seem that happy about it…”

“It’s a long story—you should ask her; she will probably tell you herself,” said Saradomin. “But that’s not what concerns me. What worries me is her choice of loyalties.”

Henry frowned and bit his lip. Did this have anything to do with why Jaina wanted to keep her new god a secret, perhaps? Did Saradomin know about her god? Was he just unhappy that she wasn’t following him instead?

“Why’s it a bad thing if Jaina decided to follow this Zaros guy?” he finally asked. “I mean, it’s not like she’s with Zamorak or anything—”

“Shush! Do not speak the name of the Empty Lord out loud!”

Saradomin seemed to realize that he’d raised his voice a little too much, and quickly cleared his throat. “Sorry, I did not mean to shout—and indeed I shouldn’t have. Henry, you must watch what you say—merely by speaking the name of that great evil do you give him more power!”

It took Henry a few moments to regain his composure from being startled. “Great evil?” he repeated, blinking. “But Jaina wouldn’t follow a god of evil…”

Saradomin was shaking his head emphatically. “The Empty Lord is an entity so wicked that I was forced to ally with my greatest enemy in order to destroy his accursed empire. I was careful to make sure that the memory of his existence would be erased, so that such an evil could never return to Gielinor… and your sister has willfully chosen to aid in his return.”

Henry wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, if Zaros really were powerful enough to make Saradomin wet his pants—not that Saradomin was actually wearing pants—he’d surely be really good at persuasion. Could Jaina have maybe been tricked or misled? On the other… no, she was a lot smarter and more sensible than that. She would’ve looked up everything she could about a new god before deciding to follow him.

“Not only that,” Saradomin continued, “but I believe she has only done so for foolish reasons.”

“What do you mean, foolish reasons?” Henry demanded. Sure, he’d made mistakes, and Jaina surely had too, but she was definitely not stupid, and she wouldn’t have forgotten what Mother and Father would’ve wanted. She would’ve had a good reason to choose another god over Guthix.

Saradomin scratched his beard. “The both of you are human teenagers… and there are some things human teenagers are vastly more prone to do…”

“Take dares?” Henry guessed. “Get drunk at the bar? Pick a fight with really strong monsters?”

The god of order shook his head again. “Remember when the both of you got married?”

Henry tilted his head, confused as to why Saradomin had even brought it up. “What does Princess Astrid have to do with my sister or Za—her god, anyway?”

Saradomin frowned and looked thoughtful a moment. “Hm… let’s cut to the chase. Surely you’ve heard of the nasty Mahjarrat before?”

Henry had to think for a minute before he got it. “You mean those weird skeleton-faced guys?” Well, there was also General Moia, he knew, but if he remembered correctly, she was only half Mahjarrat, and she must’ve gotten her beauty and grace from her human half.

“They’re not exactly skeleton-faced anymore, but yes.” Saradomin nodded gravely. “Now imagine that one of them were—how do humans put this?—ah, were railing your sister nightly.”

If the concept of a blue screen of death had existed in Gielinor, and if Henry had realized what exactly Saradomin was saying, he would have likely gone into one instantly. Then he would’ve turned green in the face and run to the nearest bar in hopes that the beer might bleach his brain. And then he would’ve cursed Saradomin for the mental images leaving him unable to get any sleep for weeks.

Instead, he merely gave the god a blank stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Saradomin hung his head and opened his mouth to give Henry a particularly blunt explanation, but quickly decided against it. It was best that he not scar the poor boy for life; besides, he could always discover what his sister did in her spare time through numerous accidental means.

“No matter. Either way, your sister is making a terrible mistake, and she’s not likely to listen to even a god like myself. That’s where you come in—I’m sure she will listen to her brother.”

Henry stared blankly at him some more. “So… let me get this straight. You want me to tell Jaina that she should stop following the god of her choice… because Saradomin says so? That’s totally going to go over well.”

“If anyone can open her eyes, it’s you, Henry,” said Saradomin. “Moreover, despite her… prejudices, Jaina owes more to me than she’ll give me credit for. Why, if not for the heroic sacrifice of one of my loyal followers, your dear sister would now be an undead abomination forever doomed to wander the halls of those cursed Barrows over in Morytania!”

Henry wasn’t sure if that story was true, but the way Saradomin said it made him sound really, really pompous. He was talking like he personally had saved Jaina, not a guy who just happened to be a Saradominist. Either way, she didn’t owe him anything.

“Of course, it’s your choice, and you may not be successful,” Saradomin went on. “Just know that when all of Gielinor is doomed because your sister toyed with things she knows nothing about, you could’ve prevented it from happening.”

He straightened up the crown on his head. “I must leave you now, young Henry—perhaps I shall see you on the battlefield soon. My followers will, of course, show you no mercy, so be grateful I have been so kind to you. I can only hope that you care enough for your sister to save her from her own ruination.”

With that, the god of order vanished, leaving Henry all alone beside the monastery. The youth felt a little dazed from being in divine presence for so long—it almost felt like he’d gotten plastered at the bar again.

He headed towards Edgeville, unsure of what to do next. He certainly didn’t think he could trust Saradomin completely, but he didn’t know how much of all that stuff about Zaros was true. Should he go visit Jaina now? Had she even left that tomb yet? Had she really almost gotten turned into a Barrows brother—erm, sister? Even if he did meet up with her, what was he supposed to say? And what was the whole deal with Sir Owen and the wand?

Well, it might be best to give her a bit of space for now, and there was a ton of other stuff he wanted to do. He could go back to the battlefield in Lumbridge; there were still some divine tears in his bag. There was also going to get a beer or two, or killing stuff, or hanging out with his clan mates, or killing more stuff, or brushing up on his fishing and cooking, or killing even more stuff…

Deciding on Lumbridge for now, Henry figured he would ask Jaina more about the whole Zaros thing the next time he saw her. For now, there was a battle to join in—and the less he had to think about Saradomin, the better.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is one of my goofier works, albeit pretty dark due to the canon circumstances surrounding it. Even for a humorous fic, Saradomin exploiting family ties to get the World Guardian to do what he wants is quite dark anyway!
> 
> Giving the World Guardian a family is just one enjoyable way to flesh out the character--and family bonds are important too! Henry's perspective is particularly fun and interesting to write because of how ignorant he is to the goings-on of the world--and, of course, no one is explaining much anything to the poor sap at the moment. I feel bad for him in that regard, but I'm sure Jaina will explain everything about Sir Owen and the wand to him later on!
> 
> I do suspect that clans might exist in some form in-universe, in the form of like-minded warriors who enjoy the thrill of battle and getting together for drinks at the tavern.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!


End file.
